The drizzle over Baker Street was relentless, casting a dull, grey sheen over the wet cobblestones and slick pavement.
The afternoon air smelled of soot, damp wool, and cold rain.
Cruelty in the lower districts rarely made headlines.
It moved quietly, hidden in shadowed alleyways and quiet corners.
Earlier that morning, behind an abandoned bakery near the rail line, three young thugs had huddled together, stifling quiet laughter.
They had shoved a rusted iron needle deep into a thick scrap of stale, discarded bread, tossing it toward a gaunt, shivering stray dog cowering near a stack of crates.
The dog—a scruffy, flea-bitten hound with rib-pocked sides and a trailing tail—had snatched at the offering out of sheer, desperate hunger.
The pain had hit almost immediately.
With a sharp, muffled yelp, the hound bolted.
The needle had caught in the soft lining of its throat, tearing deeper with every frantic swallow.
Stumbling through the slick alleys, blood dripping slowly from its jaws, the stray wandered aimlessly, blinded by agony.
It sought nothing more than a quiet spot to lie down, but peace was nowhere to be found.
As it whimpered near the entrance of a butcher’s shop, the shopkeeper rushed out with a heavy wooden broom.
“Get out of here, you filthy pest!” the man barked, swinging the broom handle down.
The blow caught the dog squarely across its bruised ribs.
“Go on!
Scram!
Don’t you dare ruin my storefront!”
Bleeding and terrified, the dog scrambled away, its paws slipping on the wet stones as it ran aimlessly toward the heart of the district.
By dusk, the hound had collapsed near the brass-railed public fountain at the corner of Baker Street.
Its breath came in shallow, rattling gasps.
The rain washed the thin trails of blood from its mouth into the overflowing stone basin, tinting the swirling water a faint pink.
It could no longer cry out; every tremor in its neck felt like a hot blade twisting inside its throat.
Zhou Yuxuan stood by the edge of the fountain, his high collar turned up against the drizzle, his wire-rimmed glasses flecked with fine droplets of rain.
Beside him, Sunny Stark held a black umbrella overhead, flicking his brass lighter open and shut with a steady, rhythmic click-clack.
“It’s getting late, Yuxuan,” Sunny remarked, gazing down the fog-laden street.
“Mr.
Juvier expects us back at H.Q. This story is hosted at g.com.
before the evening bell.”
Yuxuan didn’t answer immediately.
His eyes were fixed on the base of the fountain, where the stray dog lay shuddering in the cold dampness.
“Look at its neck,” Yuxuan said softly.
Sunny paused, the lighter clicking to a halt.
He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes as he took in the dog’s ragged state—the faint metallic scent of blood, the unnatural rigidity in its throat, and the faint, agonizing pulse beneath its fur.
“Ah…
poor brute,” Sunny murmured, his usual playful demeanor dimming into a somber frown.
“Looks like a bad injury inside the gullet.
Swallow a bone wrong, maybe?
It won’t last through the night.”
Yuxuan knelt beside the dog, his dark trench coat brushing against the wet cobblestones.
The stray flinched violently, letting out a weak, agonizing whine, its dark eyes filled with absolute terror.
“Easy,” Yuxuan whispered, his voice steady and low.
He reached out, his bare hand hovering inches above the dog’s trembling neck.
“Easy.”
“Yuxuan, don’t get too close,” Sunny warned gently.
“A hurt animal will bite out of pure instinct.”
Yuxuan ignored the warning.
Closing his eyes, he concentrated his focus, drawing upon his understanding of physiological resonance and the inner mechanics of physical force.
He didn’t possess healing magic, nor did he carry potions, but he understood the flow of kinetic force and neurological sensation.
He placed two fingers gently against the dog’s bloody throat.
“Pain Transitional Art,” Yuxuan muttered under his breath.
A subtle, shimmering ripple of translucent aura passed from Yuxuan’s fingers into the dog’s neck.
Instantly, the dog’s rigid muscles relaxed.
The agonizing tension draining out of the animal’s eyes was replaced by a look of profound, quiet relief.
Its gasping breaths slowed into a soft, steady rhythm as the sharp, blinding sensation of the needle was lifted entirely from its perception.
But the pain did not vanish into thin air.
A violent, sharp spasm shot straight up Yuxuan’s arm.
He gasped, his jaw locking tight as the full force of the dog’s agony transferred directly into his own central nervous system.
The sensation of a sharp, rusted iron point tearing through muscle and nerve tissue mirrored itself inside his own throat and shoulder with horrifying precision.
“Yuxuan!” Sunny dropped the umbrella, stepping forward as Yuxuan collapsed onto one knee, clutching his own throat, his face draining of all color.
Blood welled at the corner of Yuxuan’s lips, trickling down his chin.
The internal trauma caused by the high-level sensation transfer had ruptured delicate capillaries in his chest and throat.
His vision blurred, the wet streets swimming in a haze of dark grey and crimson.
“You idiot!” Sunny shouted, catching Yuxuan before he hit the stone pavement.
“You used a sensation-inversion technique on a stray?!
Are you completely out of your mind?!”
Yuxuan leaned heavily against Sunny’s shoulder, his breathing ragged and wet, but his gaze remained fixed on the dog.
The hound stood up slowly on steady legs, looking at Yuxuan with quiet, peaceful eyes before turning to lap at the fresh water pooling near the fountain’s edge.
“It…
it feels no pain now,” Yuxuan rasped, his voice hoarse and broken as blood flecked his lips.
“The needle can be removed safely…
by a vet.”
“Shut up, save your breath!” Sunny growled, his face pale with sudden anxiety.
He hooked Yuxuan’s arm over his broad shoulder, lifting the younger detective off the ground.
“You’ve internal internal hemorrhaging from the neural shock!
If we don’t get you to the medical ward right now, you’re going to suffocate on your own blood!”
Sunny reached into his coat with his free hand, pulling out his brass compass-like device.
The device hummed with a sharp, high-pitched resonance, glowing with a brilliant blue light.
“Hang on,” Sunny said, his voice dropping its usual banter, filled with genuine concern.
“Space-Time Fold: St.
Jude Medical Facility!”
A blinding flash of white light enveloped the two of them on the rain-swept corner of Baker Street.
When the light faded, the pavement near the fountain was empty, leaving behind only the quiet patter of rain and a healthy stray dog resting peacefully by the water.
And might be the dog was thinking in this time:Most of the people think that lie is a curse and it causes trouble but…the Lie with whom I just met was kind.